


The devil on his shoulder

by thegirlwhofangirled



Category: Supernatural, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Demon Stiles Stilinski, Demon!Stiles, Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, Lots of Angst, M/M, Werewolves, hopefully not for long, sterek, the devil on his shoulder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhofangirled/pseuds/thegirlwhofangirled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finds out about a secret from his past which just might challenge his friendship with the pack pushing him into seeking help from unlikely allies. A Teen Wolf/Supernatural crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  


Prologue

Stiles kneeled shivering in the middle of the road, the smells of blood and damp earth filling his nostrils. When he tried to get a good look at the lifeless body of a woman lying in front of him, a blood-curling scream pierced through the night and he woke up gasping for air.  _Dude, what hell was up with that?_  Every damn time, the same thing happened. The nightmares started the night Stiles first saw Scott fully shifted and they've been embedded in his brain ever since. The fact that he helped kill a man a few weeks ago didn't exactly help his conscience, but then again, Peter Hale couldn't have been considered your average man. In the end, he deserved what he got.   
  
_ Freaking werewolves, man _ , who would've thought? Sure, he always complained nothing exciting ever happened in Beacon Hills but with all this Scott-becoming-a-werewolf business, his life just spiraled out of control. The lies he told his dad just kept on piling up, he couldn't sleep, his grades were dropping. Okay, they were already dropping, but now they were getting worse. Coach Finstock was even threatening to kick him off the lacrosse team.  To top it all off, there was the Mr. Sour wolf-Hale situation. Always lurking around in the shadows and never leaving Scott and Stiles alone. What bothered Stiles the most was not Derek's stalking itself, but the fact that he didn't mind Derek following him around and popping up in his room unannounced. What the hell was it about the sulking werewolf that appealed to him? Surely it had nothing to do with Derek's eyes and how even when he was ready to bite someone's head off they were still full of sorrow and despair, or the way Derek's leather jacket seemed to hug him in all the right places, or how good his ass looked in a pair of black pa-AHH.  _What the fuck, man?_   He was supposed to like Lydia: Lydia, with her luscious strawberry blonde hair, and pouty lips. Why was he thinking about how good Derek Hale looked in a pair of tight jeans?

  
Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Stiles were part of Derek’s pack now.  Lydia, Allison, and Stiles were the only humans. They still didn’t know in what way exactly Peter’s bite had affected her, but they did know for sure she was still human. Some of the nurses at the hospital said her screams used to wake up the entire floor.  After the attack, she refused to talk to anyone, spending most of her days in silence staring into space. The first time she uttered a phrase again it was “What the hell, Stiles?” when she found him trying to hold back tears. He managed to smile and hugged her despite her half-hearted attempts to stop him. They had become friends since that afternoon. She spent as much time with Stiles as she could, going to his house to hang out after school, helping him with his homework, and sitting always by his side during the pack meetings; which is why she noticed there was something wrong with him today.

“Stiles, are you okay?” she mouthed.   
  
They were sitting in chemistry class but Stiles had spent the entire period thinking about his dream. When he didn’t answer her, Lydia poked him in his side which resulted in him groaning loudly.

“Mr. Stilinski. You’ve been so quiet today I barely noticed you’ve been here. Is there anything you wish to share with the class?” Mr. Harris voiced to the entire class.

“Um no, Mr. Harris. Please, continue.” Stiles answered, after clearing his throat.

When the class’s attention was back to the front, Stiles turned to Lydia.

“What the hell?” he hissed at her.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past 15 minutes and you’re just out of it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he whispered, “just have a lot on my mind lately.”

“Want to talk about it?” she offered, her face a mask of concern.   
  
Stiles felt tempted to tell her, but what would she think about it? Would she dismiss it as being some stupid dream? Would she think he was crazy? He paused at that thought and smiled to himself.  _She was already kind of crazy after her attack. Two crazy heads might think better than one._

“I’ll tell you today after the pack meeting.”

During lunch, all members of the pack had received a text message from Derek saying there would be an emergency meeting after school.

“ _Whatever for?”_ Allison had asked during lunch while all of them sat together.

“ _I have no idea. Whatever it is, though, it must be the reason why he has been so edgy since last weekend.”_   
  
  
Stiles had been waiting with anticipation for the day to be over but unlike his pack mates, he wasn’t looking forward to hearing the news. He just wanted to see Derek. From a young age, he had always had a fascination with the young man who lost his entire family in the fire, especially after Stiles himself lost his mother in a car crash when he was 10 years old. Derek and his sister had to learn to look after themselves. Stiles had always wondered how they managed to deal with all that sorrow. They didn’t only lose their parents in the fire; they lost their entire family. The hunters wanted to kill the werewolves, but they ended up killing all the humans that were present that night for the Hale family reunion. Derek had no one left except for his pack and he had turned from a sourwolf to a guy who cared for this group of misfit teens. He was still an ass to Stiles, though. Stiles was used to people treating him like that but when Derek did it, it hurt a little more. Lately, his feelings towards Derek had started to change and he was too scared to delve on them.

  
When the bell rang, Lydia and Stiles stormed out of the building towards Stiles’ jeep while Scott and Allison made their way to her car. There was no sign of Jackson but they guessed he was probably trying to find an excuse to tell Danny of why he was skipping the swim team meeting. Lydia kept badgering him about his dream the entire way to the Hale house but he didn’t want to tell her anything yet. When they arrived at the house, Derek was already waiting for them outside. By his expression, they could tell he didn’t have good news. He gestured for them to follow him inside.  Once they did, everyone settled into their usual spots. Scott and Allison lounged themselves on the loveseat while Stiles and Lydia headed for the couch.  Jackson just leaned against the wall.

Derek stood in the middle of the living room and took a deep breath.  _Always the king of suspense,_ Stiles thought to himself.

“I went running last night.” Derek started only to be interrupted by Stiles.

“And that’s supposed to interest us because?”    
  
The Alpha growled and Stiles just shrugged.  He was used to Derek’s growls. In fact, they kind of turned him on at this point.  He just hoped none of the other werewolves were able to notice his now speeding heartbeat and the smell of his arousal.  _Who am I kidding?_ Stiles thought, they can probably smell it in freaking Narnia by now. Although, since neither Scott nor Jackson were looking at him strangely, he chose to believe everyone was too distracted to pay attention to the half boner in his pants. He looked to his left only to find Lydia eyeing him suspiciously, a small smirk forming in her lips.  _Crap._

“And I smelled traces of another werewolf, an Alpha to be exact.”

At the mention of another Alpha, Scott and Jackson perked up, their werewolf senses craving for some action.

“Do we know why he’s here?” Scott asked.

“What makes you think it’s a he? For all we know it could be a she.” Allison offered, albeit a little offended.

“I told you guys from the very beginning this was going to happen. News about my uncle’s death was bound to spread sooner or later.”

“News spread quickly through the werewolf grapevine, and here I thought girls were the only gossipy creatures.” Stiles murmured.

Lydia glowered at him and elbowed him in ribs. Derek seemed a bit taken aback by Stiles behavior towards him but chose to ignore him.

“Even though I’m the Alpha now, other werewolves will stop at nothing to try to take my place. They figure since I’m so young, they can take me down easily. What they don’t know is that as a pack, we won’t give up without a fight.” He finished solemnly.   
  
Jackson and Scott went to the kitchen with Derek to talk about training schedules and fighting tactics, whereas the girls decided to stay behind with Stiles. He was so tired, he’d barely had any sleep since the nightmares started and right now he found himself with a terrible headache. He leaned his head back against the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” Allison asked him worriedly, cuddling to his side.

“I’m fine, just tired and my head hurts a little bit.” He answered softly. Lydia moved closer to him and offered to massage his temples.

“You’ll be fine.” Allison mumbled.

“Is this about the nightmares? You promised to tell me about them after the meeting, so spill it. What the hell is going on?” Lydia demanded.   
  
He righted himself of the couch and proceeded to tell them in hushed tones. It was one thing telling the girls, they were more sensitive and wouldn’t judge him too harshly but if the guys found out, they would probably make fun of him. He told them about the first night he dreamt it, about how he woke up gasping for air and tears running down his face. He told them in detail about what he saw: the deserted highway, how lonely and scared he felt, about the woman covered in blood and how she looked familiar to him though he didn’t know why, and finally the scream that always ripped him out of the dream.

Both girls looked at him in stunned silence. Lydia was thoughtful and Allison just looked terrified.

“That’s awful.”

“Have you tried to see the lady’s face?”

They blurted out simultaneously.

“Would you keep it down? I told you I don’t want the guys to find out.” Lydia jumped in before Allison said anything else.

“Have you tried to see the woman’s face, in your dream?”

“Yeah, but it’s always the same. I get close to the body and when I try to turn her, someone screams and I wake    up.”

“Hmm, I wonder…” Lydia mused biting her lower lip. Before this would’ve made Stiles crazy with lust, but right now? He felt nothing, zero,  _nada._ Damn Derek Hale, his flawless physique and nasty attitude.

“What?” Allison asked.

“Stiles, do you  _really_ want to find out why you’re having these dreams?” Lydia asked seriously.

“Yes!” He answered with no hesitation.

“Are you completely, sure? Things might get pretty ugly,” she warned.

“Yes, whatever, I just want to have a decent night’s sleep again. What do I have to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything, just listen to the sound of my voice.”

Stiles and Allison blinked at Lydia in confusion; she rolled her eyes and flipped her hair.

“I’m going to hypnotize you.” She added smugly.

“Who’s getting hypnotized?” Scott asked through a mouthful of his sandwich.

“Hypnotized?” Derek asked, walking in behind Scott.

Lydia was about to answer them when Stiles cut her off.

“No one’s getting hypnotized, it’s nothing.” He mumbled.

Derek watched the three teens sitting on his couch carefully.

“You’re lying. Your hearts are about to pop out of your chests. Alright, what’s going on?”   
  
Allison looked everywhere except at Derek’s face and Lydia just tapped her heel on the floor, looking at Stiles expectantly.  _Go ahead, tell them._ Her eyes seemed to say. Stiles took a deep breath.  _Screw it._  He had made up his mind about it. He was going to tell them about the dream and he didn’t care if they thought he was insane. They were werewolves for Christ’s sake; it didn’t get crazier than that. So, he went through the process of narrating everything again. Derek made accenting noises and asked questions from time to time; telling Stiles dreams shouldn’t be underestimated. Scott just looked from face to face in the pack, his eyes like those of a lost puppy who had no idea of what was going on.

“We’re doing it.” Derek said with a tone of finality.

“Wait, what?” Stiles sputtered.

“You will let Lydia hypnotize you.”

“And just who the hell do you think you are for coming to that conclusion for me?” he challenged.

“I’m your Alpha; I’m looking out for your interests.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
After a few seconds he noticed Stiles’ flabbergasted expression and the blush spreading through his neck. The rest of the pack stood quietly, pretending not to notice Stiles’ reaction or the smell of arousal permeating the room.

Derek cleared his throat and added, “What I meant to say is that when you’re agitated and lacking sleep, you won’t be able to focus on pack matters. The sooner you get over whatever it is that has you like this, the sooner we can go back to normal.”

Stiles’ face fell a little and Lydia was looking daggers at Derek.

“Fine,” Stiles said somberly, “work your Houdini shit on me, Lydia. Let’s get this show on the road.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles remembers sad things and ends up doing something stupid.

Lydia asked the guys to move the furniture out of the way and to place the couch in the middle of the room. She also ordered them to cover a few of the cracks on the walls where the sunlight was creeping through with bed sheets. She wanted the room to be darker. Everyone was doing something except for Jackson, who regarded Lydia thoughtfully from across the room. Sometimes, just the sight of him was enough to cause her pain. Jackson Whittemore: beautiful yet deadly; a threat for any girl’s heart. She had loved him and cared for him with her whole being but he never cared, at least not enough. Her heart started beating faster when she saw him making his way towards her, and by the way his lips twitched she guessed he heard it too. Stupid werewolf senses. The other members of the pack pretended not seeing the exchange. They knew things between Lydia and Jackson had not ended in good terms, they barely talked anymore.

“Since when do you know anything about hypnosis?” he asked her.

“I did some reading on it. I also took some online courses, just for the heck of it.” She answered stiffly. 

He nodded and started to say something else when Derek spoke.

“What do you want us to do now?” he said with a look that told Lydia he meant business.

“You guys need to leave. Too many people in the room might cause a distraction and you know Stiles gets distracted pretty easily as it is.” She said dryly.

“But why?” Scott whined before Allison shushed him, “I want to see what’s going to happen.”

He looked at Stiles with pleading eyes.

“I honestly don’t mind if they stay. It’s not like I think this will work anyways.” Stiles offered.

“Please keep your negativity to yourself, Stiles. This is the only way to find out why you have that mental block. Fine, you can all stay, but use your werewolf senses to listen from the kitchen. Allison you can stay out here with me.”

Lydia shooed the boys away; Scott whined some more while Derek pushed him towards the kitchen, Jackson trailing behind them. She then turned to Stiles and pushed him gently towards the couch, ordering him to lie down.

“Okay. I want you to close your eyes and take deep breaths.” Lydia said softly.

Stiles closed his eyes, mostly to humor her. He seriously doubted this was going to work, that is, until Lydia’s soothing voice started to actually have an effect on him. His eyelids felt heavy, as the rest of his body did. After a few minutes of guided breathing, Stiles was completely relaxed. He was so still Allison started to think maybe he fell asleep. The werewolves were standing by the living room door, having given up on listening from the kitchen and deciding Stiles was calm enough they wouldn’t cause a distraction. Allison turned to look at Scott but focused on Derek’s face instead. It was rarely that one saw Derek Hale’s expression unguarded, and today was one of those days. There was so much concern and longing in his eyes when he looked at Stiles. She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek. It was obvious those two were crazy for each other; Derek was just too stubborn to admit it and Stiles was…Stiles. He didn’t deal with feelings very well.

“Stiles, I need you to go back to the night Peter Hale died. How did you feel?” Lydia asked him.

“I felt…thrilled, seeing the life slipping from his eyes. He deserved to die. He caused too much pain. He hurt you, he hurt,” his voice shook, “Derek, he hurt Derek.”

Derek inhaled sharply at the mention of his name. Stiles hands began to tremble and Allison went to hold them but Lydia stopped her with a shake from her head.

“Okay, Stiles. Now I need you to leave that night behind, thin about your dream instead. Picture the scenario from your nightmare, and try to focus on every single detail. Picture yourself standing in the middle of the road. Are you there?”

“Yes.” Stiles answered.

Lydia nodded in approval and stared into space in silence. Seconds later her eyes focused with a look of determination and she asked him another question.

“How old are you right now, Stiles?”

“What?” Scott blurted out. Lydia glowered at him just as Derek hit him on the back of the head. Ow, he groaned rubbing the spot where Derek hit him.

“In the dream, Stiles; how old are you?” she repeated.

“I-I don’t know.” He answered quietly, crossing his hands against his middle. His voice sounded different, almost like a child’s.

“Try to think of your age, take a look at yourself. How old do you feel?”

Stiles lifted his right hand from his stomach and dropped it quickly, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

“I’m nine years old.” He said with wonder.

Jackson’s eyes widened and he stood there gawking. What the fuck? He mouthed. Derek shot him a glare and went back to focusing on Stiles.

“Good,” Lydia said brightly, “is the body there?” If it is I want you to walk towards it and get a good look at it.”

A minute of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I can’t. I can’t see it.” He said, his body tensing.

“Why is that?” Lydia asked, going back to her soothing tones.

“When I get too close and touch it everything goes black.” Stiles’ hands gripped his middle so tightly it drew blood; he grimaced as the first few marks of blood seeped through his shirt.

“I don’t understand,” Lydia murmured. She turned to the group confused, “it was supposed to have worked. He should’ve been able to see her face.”

“Maybe you missed something, a step? Something else you were supposed to say?” Derek offered.

He moved closer to the couch and crouched next to Stiles, a movement everyone else was aware of.

“Wait, I have an idea. Derek, you talk to him.” She said, a little smirk forming on her lips. He started to protest only to have Lydia waving him off.

“Just do it. Believe it or not, he trusts you.” She added softly.

Scott handed Derek a chair and he placed it next to Lydia, who nodded in encouragement.

“Stiles.” Derek said softly.

One word, only one word from Derek’s lips and Stiles’ body relaxed again.

“Um…” Derek looked at Lydia for help. The body. She mouthed.

“Right, um. Stiles, I need you to walk to the body and try to see the woman’s face.”

Stiles started to protest, “but I told you I can-”

“As your Alpha, I command you to do it.” Derek growled.

Stiles face went slack after his Alpha’s command. Maybe this will really work, Derek thought. Boy was he ever wrong. It didn’t take long for Stiles’ screams to pierce through the room.

“Noooo!” Stiles all but howled.

A confused Derek threw himself across Stiles’ body to keep him from thrashing around. Yet his heavy build and werewolf strength was not enough to keep the younger boy from struggling.

“What’s happening?” Allison cried to one in the room.

Lydia sat perplexed at Stiles’ reaction. “I-I don’t know what’s going on,” she stuttered.

“Dammit Lydia do something before he gets hurt!” Jackson yelled. He was now crouching next to Derek trying to hold Stiles down.

A pair of gentle hands cradled Lydia’s face, and seconds later Scott’s face was inches from hers.

“Lydia? We need your help. You need to snap out of it.” He pleaded. “Stiles needs you.”

But Lydia couldn’t snap out of it. Stiles’ screams, the pain in his voice, everything reminded her of that night; the night Peter Hale attacked her.

Back on the couch Stiles wouldn’t stop screaming. Derek whispered soothingly in his ear and asked him to calm down but Stiles was in a trance. He looked up in time to see Jackson’s pitying look and hated himself for showing weakness. He wiped his tears away angrily and leaned towards Stiles. 

“Stiles Stilinski, you listen to me right now.” Derek growled shaking Stiles struggling body, “You will stop this and wake up. Wake up God dammit!” 

^ 

Stiles couldn’t stop screaming, not after what he saw. He did what Derek’s voice commanded him, he turned the body around to face him and now he wished he hadn’t. Now he remembered why the lady’s hair was so familiar. It was his mom. Mom, he sobbed. Seven years ago it was announced to Beacon Hills that Stiles’ mom died burned when the car they had been driving caught on fire after their car crash. But he remembered everything now, though he knew he wasn’t supposed to. They had been on their way home from one of Stiles’ soccer games that night. He had been narrating excitedly how he had made the winning goal.

“Everyone was screaming my name, mom. They were screaming ‘Stiles! Stiles! It was awesome’.”

She lifted her eyes to the rearview mirror and smiled that smile, the one she only had for him, her little boy.

“I’m so proud of you sweetie. How about when we get home we bake your favorite cookies?”

“Sweet! Look mom, a wolf!”

He warned her a little too late. By the time she looked back to the road the wolf was jumping on the hood of the car and she had lost control of the wheel. Their car swerved 360 degrees and crashed against a tree. The last thing Stiles remembered before losing consciousness was his mother trying to shield him from a pair of glowing red eyes.

When he opened his eyes again he was resting on the side of the road with no idea of how he got out of the car. He brought his hand to his forehead and winced, he was bleeding. He strained his eyes trying to look for any sign of his mom when he saw it, the wolf. It was crouching on top of a figure. He crawled his way to the middle of the road and saw the wolf tearing at his mom’s throat.

“No!” he screamed. The wolf jerked his head around and growled, baring its teeth at Stiles. “Leave her alone!” he cried.

But the wolf went back to biting his mom’s neck. Stiles got up awkwardly and ran towards it when suddenly a pair of strong arms held him back.

“Not so fast kid.” A voice sniggered.

“Let me go! She’s my mom, he’s going to kill her!” Stiles sobbed.

“Too late kid, she’s dead.” The voice mocked.

As if on cue the wolf turned to face them, blood dripping from its fangs onto the asphalt. Stiles screamed, kicked and scratched the arms that held him. He wanted nothing more than to get away and break every single bone of the wolf’s body. The thing had killed his mother and he hadn’t done anything to stop it. Body wrenching sobs shook Stiles minute body when the strangest thing happened and the wolf morphed into a naked man. He gasped at the transformation taking place before him and found himself remembering all the stories he read and horror films his mom wouldn’t let him watch. The word werewolf immediately formed in his mind. He couldn’t see much of the guy’s face since it was dark, but the dim rays of moonlight did let him see that the man was young, probably late twenties, with dark hair and green eyes. The green eyed stranger nodded to the man restraining Stiles.

“Looking a bit uncomfortable over there. Was the kid too much too handle, Bud?” he sneered.

The pair of arms restraining him pushed Stiles to the ground abruptly. He looked up to see the face of his captor. Bud was a tall man with graying hair that curled past his collar and a beard that covered most of his face. He looked down at Stiles with yellow glowing eyes and growled when he saw the kid studying his face.

“Kid’s small but has a lot of fight in him; no wonder the boss wants him.” Bud offered, embarrassed that a kid like Stiles had been able to catch him off guard.

The werewolf was looking at Stiles with curious eyes now.

“So this little thing is what the boss wants?” he mused.

“I’m not little!” Stiles bellowed, “When I get free I’m going to kill you! Just like you killed her.” He finished with an angry whisper.

The werewolf stood in silence for a few seconds and then burst out laughing.

“You kill me?” he asked, then laughed some more, “never in a million years, kid.” He stepped forward and lowered himself to Stiles level, his eyes going from green to red. “It was nothing personal kid, just following orders. I got to admit, though, your mom was pretty tasty.”

Stiles yelled and lounged for the guys face, scratching most of his left eye.

“Shit.” Bud whispered before punching Stiles.

“Be careful with the merchandise, Bud.” The werewolf warned. He brought his hand to his eye to wipe some of the blood gushing out. “Man, am I looking forward to coming after you in seven years.” He chuckled.

Those were the last words Stiles heard before a hand touched his temple and he blacked out.

^

Stiles opened his eyes to find the face of a worried Derek looming above him. He scrambled away from Derek as much as he could.

“You.” Stiles spat out at him.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked, moving closer to Stiles only to have Stiles push him away.

“This is your fucking fault!” he screamed.

Everyone in the room became still, in all the years they had known Stiles never had they seen him so mad, especially towards Scott.

“What did I do?” Scott asked confused.

“You killed her, you killed my mom!” Stiles exclaimed pointing at Derek.

“Wait, what?” Derek choked.

“You fucking werewolves are ruining my life. First, you took my best friend away from me by turning him into one of you, and now I find out you guys killed my mom too.” He finished with sob.

Allison gasped and grasped Scott’s hand; Jackson took a step backwards, disbelief written all over his face and Derek just stood there gawking at Stiles. Having gained control of her emotions Lydia moved closer to Stiles and held his hand.

“Stiles, what’s going on? What do you mean Derek killed your mom?” she asked him.

He shook his head, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

“No. He didn’t kill her,” Derek cringed at the venomous way Stiles said he. “But another werewolf did.”

“I don’t understand.” Scott mused, “Your mom died in car crash, Stiles.”

Stiles shook his head rapidly, “It was staged to seem that way but it wasn’t. I remember everything now.”

Allison brought him a glass of water and he proceeded to tell them what he remembered. About the Alpha causing the crash, Bud restraining him, the werewolf saying he would be back for him. The pack flooded Stiles with questions, but he didn’t answer any of them. He kept his eyes trained on Derek’s face the entire time to gauge his reaction. When the rest of the group realized he wasn’t going to talk they spread across the room trying to come up with theories of who was this mysterious Alpha who killed Stiles’ mom and when he might be coming. Seeing an opportunity to talk with Stiles, Derek made his way to Stiles and sat next to him on the couch, not missing the way Stiles’ grimace when their thighs touched.

“Why did you say I killed her?” Derek asked his voice full of hurt.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, Derek. “ Stiles replied, not able to look him in the eye.

“For what is worth I’m really sorry, Stiles. I promise you, when this guy shows up he’ll pay. I’m going to kill him myself if I have to. I -” he reached for Stiles hand but Stiles pulled away.

“Don’t. Please don’t do this, not now.” Stiles whispered.

Derek exhaled a frustrated sigh and grabbed Stiles hand anyways.

“I know what you’re going through, Stiles. I saw my whole entire family die.”

“Stop!” Stiles shouted pulling his hand away, “I can’t do this right now. I’m going home.” Stiles stood up abruptly and let everyone else know he was leaving. The girls looked from Stiles to Derek in confusion while the boys pretended not to have heard what happened between Stiles and Derek.

When Stiles opened the door he slammed into a wall of muscle. Danny Mahealani was standing in front of him. Stiles couldn’t help but notice the guy was looking pale.

“Danny? What the hell are you doing here?” asked Jackson.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You said you were skipping practice because you felt sick and instead of going home you came here. Oh, and just so you know? I heard everything. Werewolves, really?” Danny asked in disbelief.

“How come no one smelled him?” Allison asked.

“Because, he’s wearing my clothes.” Jackson offered as an explanation.

“Listen, this seems like it’s going to be a really nice explanation session, but I’m going home.” Stiles interjected.

And with that Stiles pushed by Danny and left the Hale house. Danny stepped into the house and punched Jackson in the arm. Tell me everything. He said. Lydia took advantage of the situation and asked Derek if she could speak to him in private. Derek told her to follow him outside, they walked for approximately 20 minutes before he thought they were far enough not to be heard.

“You have to fix this.” Lydia said.

“How am I supposed to do that? You saw how reacted when I tried to touch him. He hates me now.”

“For the love of God, Derek. The guy is in love with you!” she exclaimed, “don’t pretend like you didn’t know. The kid practically swoons every time he sees you.”

Derek looked away shyly. Was that a blush staining his cheeks?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied.

“Do you seriously think I’m stupid? I may not have your werewolf senses to notice when someone’s heart is beating fast, or smell the pheromones in the room but I’m a girl. I notice these things and Stiles cares about you, just like you care about him. Everyone in the pack seems to know what’s going on except for you two!”

She was wrong. Of course Derek knew about Stiles’ feelings, just like he knew they mirrored his own. From that first afternoon when Derek saw the awkward teenager gawking at him while they looked for Scott’s inhaler the kid had awakened something in him. Then he got to know him better and he learned to appreciate Stiles’ quirky attitude and witty comments. What got to him the most though, was seeing how much Stiles cared for his friends. He loved them all fiercely. When he heard how upset Stiles had been by the idea of Peter hurting him Derek’s heart wanted to burst with joy. He thought Stiles’ feelings for him were purely physical but now he knew better. Stiles cared for him, and he was going to do everything in his power to protect him from any harm. Lydia’s murmured apology dragged him away from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry by the way I freaked out in there.” She said softly.

“It’s okay.”

“What are we going to do with Stiles? There’s only a few weeks left before the seven years mark of his mother’s death.”

Derek grimaced, “Didn’t miss that tidbit of information, did you?”

I told you, I’m not stupid.” She smiled “So what’s the plan?”

Derek broke off a small branch from a tree and clenched it in his hand.

“For now, we need to make sure Stiles is okay. I don’t think he’ll want much to do with werewolves for now. As for the Alpha who killed his mom, something tells me he wasn’t counting on Stiles remembering what happened that night. He went through the trouble of putting Stiles back in the car and setting everything up to make it seem as an unfortunate car crash, not a murder. That son of a bitch has no idea of what’s waiting for him on Beacon Hills.

The next morning Stiles woke feeling like a zombie, but then again 2 hours of sleep tended to do that to you. The images of his mom’s bloody throat were embedded to his brain. He wiped away angrily at the tears streaming from his eyes. He felt so helpless. Lying on his bed he wished he hadn’t remembered anything from that night, then realized he was lying to himself. He was glad he remembered because now he could avenge his mother’s murder. And he knew just the way to do it.

^

Derek woke up to 10 missed calls, 5 from Lydia and 5 from Scott. He had overslept because he went running after his chat with Lydia. He never received calls from Scott, since Stiles was usually the one that called on Scott’s behalf. Scared that something bad had happened to Stiles he returned Scott’s call.

“Derek! Thank God you called.” Scott all but screamed into the phone.

“What’s going on,” He grumbled into his phone.

“It’s Stiles, he’s gone missing.” Derek stilled upon hearing this piece of news.

“What do you mean he’s missing? Have you called his cell phone? Did you call his dad? Have you picked up his scent? Why the hell didn’t you guys call me sooner.” He snarled.

 

There was rustling on the other side of the phone and a yelp from Scott.

“Derek, you need to get your shit together!” Lydia shouted at him from the other end of the line. He didn’t know why but lately she was one of the two people who put him in his place, the other being Stiles.

“I don’t know where he is but I think I have an idea of where he might be going.”

As if on cue there was a knock on Derek’s door. He sniffed the air, yup, that was Stiles scent alright. He sniffed again. Was that whiskey?

“Lydia I have to go, Stiles just got here.” And he hung up the phone.

He ran down the stairs and opened the door to find a disheveled Stiles standing on his doorstep. His clothes had grass stains all over and there were pieces of dried leafs sticking to his hair.

“Deeeeerek, yourrr home. Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Stiles slurred.

“You’re drunk.” Derek said accusingly.

“No shizzz, Sherlock,” Stiles said rolling his eyes, “can I come in?”

Derek stepped aside and let Stiles into the house.

“Can I have some water, I’m thirssty.” Stiles hiccupped.

Derek went into the kitchen and when he came back he saw Stiles sitting on the stairs. Stiles took the glass of water from Derek’s hand and gulped it down.

“Stiles, why are you like this?”

Stiles sighed and looked up at Derek, patting the spot next to him. Derek obliged by sitting down and turning his body to face him.

“After my mom died I had this hollowness in my chest for the longest time. I used to blame myself for the crash because I was the reason she got her eyes off the road. Yesterday, when I remembered? I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I kept thinking, ‘it wasn’t my fault’.” He finished under his breath.

Derek felt his heart break in thousand little pieces when he saw the sorrow in Stiles face. He lifted his hand and wiped one treacherous tear as it slid down Stiles’ face. Stiles closed his eyes and leaned into Derek’s hand.

“Stiles.” Derek warned, pushing Stiles away from him gently.

But Stiles was tired of being pushed away. He saw it then, written all over Derek’s face. In the way his eyes bore into Stiles, how he whispered his name like prayer; a silent promise. Mr. Sourwolf-Hale loved him. There was no doubt about it. Stiles heart beat faster in anticipation of what he was going to do. He grabbed Derek’s neck and pulled him until their mouths met. Derek was stunned at first, leaving Stiles to do all the work. However, Stiles would have none of it. He pried Derek’s lip open with his own and tentatively brought his tongue into Derek’s mouth. That was the older man’s undoing, the moment Stiles’ tongue came in contact with his own Derek lost it. He dragged Stiles to him and settled him in his lap, savoring every inch of his mouth. Stiles tasted of whiskey and misery. They kissed, licked, bit and sucked at each other’s lips. Derek ran his hand down Stiles’ spine and nearly came when he felt him shudder on top of him. Stiles broke off the kiss and looked him in the eye.

“I want you to give me the bite.” He said breathlessly. 

Derek’s eyes fell a little when he finally caught on.

“This was a set up.” He stated, his voice full of hurt.

Stiles swallowed guiltily and kept going.

“It was going to happen sooner or later. I need to become a werewolf don’t you understand? I need to be able to defend myself when this guy shows up.” Stiles pleaded

“There’s no need for me to turn you, Stiles. The pack will protect you.” Derek said.

“No,” Stiles yelled pushing himself off of Derek’s lap, “I’m tired of being the helpless human. I want to be able to defend myself. Please Derek, I’ll do anything.” He looked at Derek’s lips.

“Please don’t do this.” Derek whispered.

“Please?” Stiles breathed, kneeling in front Derek.

He kissed him, running his tongue lazily over Derek’s lower lip. Derek responded to the kiss by sucking on Stiles upper lip and then moved away.

“This is not about you wanting to protect yourself, and you know it; this is about revenge, and let me tell you something, if I turned you while you’re like this you would hate me for the rest of your life.”

Stiles lower lip trembled as fresh tears spilled from his eyes.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite!” he accused. “You talk to me about not acting on my revenge when you killed your uncle after you found out what he did. You know what? I don’t need your fucking bite. I’ll find another way to kill that bastard.” He said backing away from Derek.

He stood in the doorway, waiting for Derek to say something but the older man had made up his mind. Stiles looked at Derek one last time before storming out the door. He wasn’t really surprised by Derek’s reaction which is why he had a plan b. He smiled to himself as he drove away in his jeep. He wasn’t completely sure this would work but he had to try, it was his last option. He remembered some lore he read a few months ago after reading one of his favorite novels by Carver Edlund. The lore talked about crossroads demons: creatures of the night that were known for striking deals with humans in exchange for their souls. He could ask for anything he wanted, including a way of getting revenge for his mom’s murder. If selling his soul was the only way for Stiles to be at peace, then he sure as hell was going to sell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm transferring this from my lj account and since I still don't know how to work this properly it's counting the prologue as chapter 1. So for the people who started this story on my lj/ff don't freak out if you see there's one extra chapter here, it's only because it's counting the prologue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word...Crowley.

Stiles was set on his decision; he was going to summon a crossroads demon. He wasn’t sure yet as of what exactly he was going to ask for, but he knew it would result in the death of the werewolf who killed his mom. Two weeks flew by where Stiles divided his time between school, and hanging out at home doing research on crossroads demons. Even his dad started to find his constant presence at home strange.

“How come you haven’t been hanging out with Scott lately?” his dad had asked him.

“We had kind of a fall out. He’s probably too busy with Allison anyways.”

His dad looked at him with questioning eyes but decided to let it go, something Stiles was really grateful for that. He didn’t want to talk about Scott or anything related to the pack. He missed all the meetings following his little breakdown and no one had questioned him about it, thank God. He didn’t feel like dealing with any of them, especially Derek. Stiles didn’t know where in the hell he’d found the courage to kiss Derek. For months he’d been waking up drenched in sweat and cum moaning Derek’s name against his pillow trying not to wake up his dad. Kissing him was one of the craziest things he’d ever done, and Stiles had done his fair share of crazy shit in his short lifetime. For all he knew Derek could’ve bitten his head off or punched him but when saw the way Derek was looking at him he knew he had nothing to lose. At this point he didn’t know where exactly his relationship with Derek stood but he at least hoped they would not go back to Derek pushing him around and ignoring him. He thought he at least deserved a little respect from Derek considering he had, if only a little bit, the Alpha’s affection. Who was he kidding? Derek was probably overcome with lust only because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while and Stiles had mistaken the look in his eyes for love. What did Stiles know about love anyways? He thought he had always been in love with Lydia but then he started developing strange feelings for Derek out of the blue. He’d also never had a serious relationship with anyone so it’s not like he really knew what being in love felt like.

The sound of the Doctor Who theme song blasting from his phone startled Stiles, it was Scott.

“Yes?” Stiles answered.

“Stiles? It’s me, Scott!” Scott’s voice announced cheerfully from the other end of the line.

“I am well aware of that Scott, caller id?” Stiles answered stifling a laugh.

“Oh, right.” Scott’s voice answered chuckling.

He loved his best friend to death but even he couldn’t deny the fact that Scott was incredibly stupid sometimes.

“Did you do me the favor I asked you?” Stiles inquired hopefully.

“Yeah, I did. Dr. Deaton kept looking at me weird, though. He also asked me a lot of strange questions and he ended up figuring out that whatever the hell you asked me to get for you wasn’t for me but for someone else. So he told me to tell whoever hand sent me to get that stuff to go and pick it up themselves. Just what the hell is that Achilles’ millennium stuff, Stiles? What do you need it for?” Scott whined.

“It’s Achillea Millefollium, not Achilles’ millennium, and it’s a plant for a special ointment I need to make.”

“Really? Because the minute I mentioned that thing to Dr. Deaton he asked me why would someone like me want that.”

Shit, Stiles groaned. He would’ve loved nothing more than to be able to share his plan with Scott, but he knew better. If he told anything to Scott, who was a very bad liar, and the pack noticed there was something wrong with him Derek’s Alpha status would be enough to rip the truth out of Scott’s mouth. Stiles knew very well if they found out they would try to stop him claiming “don’t do this, the pack can protect you.” Bullshit. He was tired of feeling defenseless against werewolves, and all the supernatural shit. He nearly died when that new dude Matt went all psycho kanima all of the sudden and started killing people. He was not going through that again. He also didn’t want Dr. Deaton to know he was planning on selling his soul. Ever since the pack found out Dr. Deaton was some sort of supernatural “advisor,” but Stiles thought the term witch doctor was way cooler, they rushed to him with any kind of questions. That’s why he knew if someone would be able to find this plant in California it would be him.

“Tell Dr. Deaton the person who sent you is going to go see him today.” Stiles told Scott.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Scott offered.

Stiles could hear Scott’s hope in his voice, and he felt like crap for having ditched his friend for two weeks.

“No, you don’t have to. By the time I show up your shift will be over. But hey, maybe you and I can hang out afterwards; play some video games and order something to eat, okay?”

Scott stayed quiet for a moment before murmuring “Sure, see you later then.” And he hung up.

Don’t worry, dude. Stiles thought to himself. When all of this is done there won’t be any more secrets.

^

Derek, Jackson and Dr. Deaton walked into the backroom just as Scott was putting his phone away. Derek couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on his Beta’s face. He looked closely to the boy and sniffed the air covertly. Yes, Scott was definitely in emotional pain.

“Scott, is everything alright?” Deaton asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m almost done cleaning up so I’ll be out of your hairs soon.”

Deaton smiled and nodded while Derek shook his head.

“There’s no need for you to leave, Scott. You know any pack matters I discuss with Deaton also concern you too.”

Scott gave Derek a small smile.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m going home to do some homework and then I’m meeting Stiles.”

At the mention of Stiles name Derek became very still. It had been two weeks since he’d last heard from him. Two weeks since that horrid day when he was forced to see his boy so devastated upon learning the truth about his mother’s death. He hadn’t seen Stiles since that night he showed up on his doorstep, and they kissed. That mother fucking kiss. The mere memory of it set Derek’s insides on fire. The feel of Stiles lips molding to his, the sweet taste of his mouth intermingled with the whiskey’s bitterness. Derek inhaled slowly through his nose and tried to control himself. It wouldn’t do for Scott and Jackson to notice his state of arousal. Feeling someone’s eyes upon him, Derek looked up and glared at Jackson when he found him looking his way. The boy cringed and went back to playing with his phone.

“Is he okay? I mean, after what happened…” Derek stopped himself from saying more.

“He seems fine. I only see him at school during the few classes we share together. He did tell me he’d rather stay away from any werewolf related activities, though.” Scott offered apologetically while Derek nodded in understanding. “Oh I almost forgot, Dr. Deaton, the person I talked to you about earlier is coming up later today to pick up the Achilles thing. I got to go, see you later guys.” Scott said nodding to Derek and walked out the door.

Achilles? I knew it, he’s lost his mind, Jackson mumbled while Deaton chuckled and Derek’s mouth twitched trying not to crack a smile. The reason why Derek had shown up at Dr. Deaton’s was because he wanted to talk to him about the other werewolf scent he picked up while he was in the woods. Much to his disappointment, Deaton had not heard anything related to the possibility of a new wolf on town. He did tell him, however, of sensing supernatural forces approaching Beacon Hills.

“What do you mean, ‘supernatural forces’? Can’t you specify what they are?” Derek inquired.

“I can’t quiet put my finger on it. All I know is that is nothing I’ve ever faced before. I’ve been doing research and nothing comes up. I also talked to some acquaintances of mine who might be able to help. Based off the information I’ve given them they haven’t been able to help much either.”

“Should we be worried about this?” Jackson asked from where he was standing. He had stopped playing with his phone and was paying attention to Derek and Deaton’s conversation.

“Not yet, but you guys should still be on the lookout. Check for anything out of the ordinary around town, any abnormal behavior, things like that. Depending on what we find we’ll know how to proceed.”

Derek and Jackson said their goodbyes and were about to leave when Dr. Deaton called Derek back and asked if he could stay for a little longer.

“It’s important.” Deaton clarified.

“No need to worry about me, Derek. I can walk all the way home.” Jackson offered acidly.

Derek looked at Jackson and frowned, they had driven here in his car and he felt kind of bad making him walk all the way back to his house where Jackson’s Porsche was. He breathed gruffly and threw his Camaro’s keys, none too gently, at Jackson who winced at the unexpected impact of the keys on his chest.

“If I see as much as a scratch you’re dead meat.” He growled.

Jackson swallowed awkwardly and nodded as he trotted out of the room.

“You know, for all the tough, fearful, Alpha act you pull with everyone you can’t deny you care about your pack’s wellbeing.” Dr. Deaton grinned.

“Whatever,” Derek grumbled, “what is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Summer solstice is approaching and I was wondering if you already had a mate in mind-“

“Not this again, Deaton. I already told you, I don’t want nor do I need a mate. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“We both know that is not true, Derek. A wolf needs a pack and seeks a mate whether he’s aware of it or not. No matter how much you accomplish with your pack or on your own you’ll always feel that burning, gaping hole in your chest. I see how damaged you are, Derek. Now, I know you might think you’re not worthy or capable of love but I think your pack has shown you otherwise. You’ve changed. You’re not that bitter, lonely boy any longer. You’ve become a well-adjusted Alpha, just think of how extraordinary you could be if you let yourself truly love and care for that other person who’s destined for you.”

Derek shook his head, refusing to let himself to even think of believing Deaton’s words. He had already let his guard down once, he let himself love someone and that only caused his family’s demise.

“I don’t need a mate. Besides, it’s not like I’ll find one here with all the shit I have to handle on a daily basis. I can’t afford to open up to someone that way again, much less fall in love.” Derek said bitterly.

“Is that so?” Dr. Deaton said thoughtfully, a knowing smile slowly splitting his face. “This wouldn’t have to do anything with the feelings Mr. Stilinski has started to awaken in you, would it?”

Derek turned towards Dr. Deaton and gave him his meanest glare, hoping to bully the man into shutting up. After all, he had hit too close to the truth. Derek hadn’t thought of the possibility that Stiles might be his mate, but after their little showdown two weeks ago he wasn’t so sure anymore. That day he had felt Stiles pain as his own. If Stiles had been one of his wolves he would’ve pinned those feelings as a result of the Alpha-Beta bond. But even if Stiles was part of his pack Derek would never be able to have that connection with a human. There was a big chance Stiles might be his mate after all.

A while after Derek left the Vet’s office Dr. Deaton was starting to feel agitated at having to wait for Scott’s mysterious “friend” to show up. He was about to close the office when he heard the sound of a car engine outside. He grabbed the rest of his belongings, along with small bag he had filled with Yarrow, and made his way to the reception to meet the stranger. He was expecting anything but the sight that greeted him: Stiles Stilinski’s awkward smile.

“Mr. Stilinski, you’re the one who wants the Achillea?” Deaton asked curiously.

“Yes, I need to make a… concoction for a friend. He got kind of got injured during Lacrosse practice. So if you don’t mind I’ll be taking this” The boy answered confidently, reaching for the bag on the Dr. Deaton’s hand but Deaton moved it out of his reach before he could get to it.

“I would’ve thought that being best friends with a nurse’s kid had its advantages, being able to confide in her about injuries as your friend’s is one of them. Whatever ails your friend, I’m sure Mrs. McCall would be more than happy to help. Why would you feel the need of making up a remedy yourself?”

Stiles didn’t know what else to tell Dr. Deaton, he had a feeling if he talked to much Deaton would guess what he was up to and would somehow try to stop him.

“Alright, you got me, there’s no injured friend. But I really need that.” Stiles implored, pointing at Deaton’s hand.

The vet assessed Stiles’s face carefully, the boy almost squirming under the scrutiny, whatever he saw must have done the job because handed Stiles the bag.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Deaton.” Stiles breathed.

Dr. Deaton signaled him to exit the office and Stiles followed. As Stiles made way for his jeep Deaton called out to him again. When he turned around he saw Deaton’s pitiful expression and paused.

“Whatever you’re looking for I hope you find it. More than anything, though, I hope no one gets hurt in the process.” 

And with those words Deaton stepped into his car and drove away.

^

Stiles thought about Deaton’s words during his drive home. There was no way other people would get hurt if he went through with this, Right? It was his soul, his business. He would make sure that his father and the pack would be taken care of. He looked at the passenger seat next to him and resisted the urge patting the small bag. He had everything he needed for the ritual: his yearbook photo, the yarrow, graveyard dirt, and a black cat bone. Which by the way? It was totally gross to obtain. He had to sneak into the pet cemetery in the middle of the night and ransack Bubbles’ tomb, Coach Finstock’s old cat.

Stiles checked his GPS again to make sure he had the right location. Prior leaving his house he had looked up some dirt roads intersections in Beacon Hill. He wanted to make sure to pick one that was farther away from town. He didn’t want anyone, especially one of his dad’s coworkers, to see him. They would certainly find it suspicious if he drove to a crossroads this late at night and saw him burying a box. He pulled over and parked on the side of the road. He shoved the small bag of yarrow in his backpack, and pulled the shovel he had brought from the back seat. Taking a deep breath he set himself to work. The first thing that popped into his head as he was shoveling dirt was that maybe he should’ve listened to Greenberg months ago when he suggested Stiles should work on his upper body strength. Who the hell listens to Greenberg anyways? He wasn’t anywhere near to having dug a whole deep enough and he was already sweating like a pig. When he felt he had done a decent job Stiles placed the yarrow, the picture, the cat bone, and graveyard dirt inside the small wooden box he’d used to collect baseball cards as a child, and buried it.

Wiping his hands on his jeans he breathed, “That’s pretty much it.” He waited a few seconds, nothing happened. Five minutes later? Still nothing. He bit his lower lip trying to hold the tears forming in his eyes. He shook his head at his own stupidity and had a harsh laugh. Of course, when has something ever worked for Stiles Stilinski? He kicked a nearby rock angrily and yelped at the pain on his foot. He decided to let the tears fall and blame them on the pain he was feeling instead of blaming them on the disappointment, and powerlessness that invaded his soul. This was his only chance, what was he supposed to do now?

“You called?” a bored, female voice with a British accent asked from somewhere behind him.

Stiles whipped around and found himself looking at a gorgeous woman. She had shoulder length dark blonde hair, and big green eyes. She was wearing a floor length black dress, her eyes glowed crimson red when she smirked at him.

“Well, are you going to talk or not? I had a very good poker hand back in hell before you summoned me.” She said dryly.

“I-I-I’m Stiles, and I wish to sell my soul, please.” He said clearing his throat and wiping the tears from his face.

The woman stopped smirking and looked at him soberly.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit young to be considering this?” she offered.

“I’m sixteen years old for Christ’s sake; I think I’m old enough to know what I’m doing.” Stiles scoffed, standing up straight.

“It’s nothing personal; I’ve made it one of my rules not to negotiate with people so…young.” The woman said quietly.

“Look, I’m sure you have your reasons but I really need this. I just need some kind of superpower or something to kill the werewolf who’s after me.”

The woman regarded him quietly before bursting into laughs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you want superpowers to fight a werewolf?” she asked between hiccups, “why not just get bitten by one, that way you’ll be able to fight him equally. Or you could get bitten by a vampire, that could work too.”

Stiles gaped at the woman. Vampires!? Great, more supernatural shit to worry about.

“Look, Stimes-” she started.

“It’s Stiles.”

“Stiles,” she smiled, “I know of some hunters who might be able to help you with your problem. I used to know them back when I was human and they were really good. I’m sure if you explained your situation-”

“No, no hunters. I need to do this myself. This is not a matter of protection for myself, this is about payback. That bastard that’s after me killed my mom in front me of seven years ago and I didn’t remember until recently. I’ve been lied to for half of my life and I’m tired on having to rely on someone else. I need to kill him myself. I’m pretty sure looking the way you look you’ve never felt helpless and you’ve always gotten what you wish for but I need to do this.” Stiles finished out of breath.

The woman looked at him quietly before whispering “I have felt helpless, and I ended up making a stupid decision at a very young age. Which is what you’re about to do.”

“Are you seriously trying to talk me out of selling my soul?” Stiles asked in disbelief, “I demand to speak with your manager or whoever the hell is in charge of you.” He added.

The woman laughed and started saying something else when a voice cut her off.

“Bela, Darling, is this true?” The woman paled at the sound of the new voice.

Stiles felt kind of bad now. Had he gotten her in trouble? He looked around for the source of the voice, which was tinged with another heavy accent, but found no one. The woman righted herself, a defiant look on her face before speaking again.

“You know I don’t negotiate with minors.” She offered.

“Oh, but I think the boy’s pretty determined.” The voice offered.

Stiles kept looking from Bela to the empty space around them. Who the hell was speaking to her?

“Cr-”

“Shut up and go! I’ll be speaking with you shortly.”

“I don’t think-”

“Abigail!” the voice yelled.

Bela gave Stiles one last troubled look before disappearing into thin air.

“Um, hello?” Stiles asked nervously.

“Now, where were we?”

Stiles shrieked before falling to the ground. What the hell was it with people popping up behind him? He looked up and saw a smirking man in a suit. Evil was the first word that came to mind. Okay, the guy didn’t look completely evil, more like cartoon evil. He was wearing a black suit and sporting a cane.

“Who are you?” Stiles stammered.

“Oh, I’ve gone by many names.”

“Are you Lucifer or something?” Stiles asked earning a look of distaste from the man.

“As if! My name is Crowley, who might you be?”

“My name’s Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.” Crowley frowned upon hearing his name. He was probably about to make a comment about his weird name but in the end said nothing.

“So you want to sell your soul. What can I offer you? Riches? Fame? Women? No, those would come along by themselves once you get the first two. You want a few extra inches in the sack?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Stiles.

Stiles burst out laughing, he thought demons were supposed to be mean and scary yet here he was laughing at one.

“No. What I need is a superpower or something of sorts.” Stiles said, exasperated. He was tired of having to explain himself to these people. Demons, demon-people?

“A superpower?” Crowley asked scrunching up his forehead in confusion.

“I want to kill the wolf that killed my mother. As you can see I’m 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, there’s not much I can do on my own.” Stiles finished quietly.

“Well, I’ll admit there’s not much I can do about ‘superpowers’ but I believe there’s something we can work out.” Crowley said thoughtfully.

Crowley snapped his fingers and another man materialized next to him. His eyes were black as coal when he sneered at Stiles.

“Here’s what I can offer,” Crowley said, his tone meaning business, “I can give you one of my men to stick with you until this werewolf shows up. Once he does show up my man kills him, and then comes back to me. You’ll have your revenge, I’ll have my new soul and my demon back, and everyone lives happily ever after. Problem solved.” Crowley smiled proud of himself.

“Sorry, no deal. I want to be able to fight the guy myself. If I wanted someone to kill him for me I would just talk to my friends who are also werewolves or I would go to the hunters from my town.”

At the mention of hunters the black eyed demon recoiled and eyed Stiles warily. Crowley, on the other hand, looked at Stiles with new interest.

“You’re friends with werewolves and know hunters. Just what kind of boy are you?” Crowley asked fascinated. “Let’s make things more interesting. You want a front row seat on the action when it happens?” Stiles nodded. “Then you will, with one of my men inside you.” Crowley smirked.

Okay, that sounded so wrong. Why did Stiles feel violated all of the sudden?

“What do you mean inside me?” Stiles asked mortified.

“Get your head out of the gutter, kid. I’m talking about demon possession. Although,” he paused, “if the prior is what you’re into…something could be arranged. Only if I’m the one to do it of course, I’ve always liked them young and pretty after all.” The man leered at Stiles.

And just like that things got 10 times creepier.

“You’re saying I have to willingly let a demon possess me, and I’ll have its powers?” Crowley nodded.

This sounded too easy. A quote he read once in one of his favorite books materialized in his head. How do you know if a demon is lying? His lips are moving… All he needs to do is let a demon possess him, kick some werewolf ass, and things will be back to normal; all of that for the price of his precious soul. Thinking about it he realized he would not be getting much in the long run, but knowing he will have avenged his mother felt right. He guessed it was worth it.

“How long will I have? If I make the deal, how much longer until you come to collect?” Stiles asked softly.

“You get ten years, but I like you so much I’ll be willing to throw in an extra two. That’ll give you twelve more years to live a happy, fruitful life. You can go off to college, fall in love. How old are you now 15, 16 years old? In twelve years you’ll be 28. Hey, you can even start a family. My advice would be you shouldn’t, though. Imagine those cute, big cheeked, brown eyed babies being orphaned at such a young age.”

Stiles couldn’t help picturing the life Crowley was narrating. He saw himself a few years into the future: going off to college, meeting new people. His vision blurred and instead of kissing some random blond he saw himself holding on to a muscular back for dear life. He saw himself cuddling with Derek in a small apartment studio in the city. Then he pictured Derek holding a small baby while Stiles blew raspberries into its little belly. A single tear escaped his eye. He knew this vision wasn’t true, he knew it couldn’t happen. Derek would always choose pack above anything, and there would always be threats hanging above their heads. He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t do this.

“Fine, where do I sign?” Stiles said somberly.

Crowley laughed victorious and shook his head.

“This is not the way we seal deals around here, sweetheart. Pucker up!” Crowley said, pursing his lips.

“What?!” Stiles cried.

“We seal it with a kiss.” Crowley murmured seductively.

Oh God, Stiles groaned to himself. Maybe if he just did it really quick, just a touch of the lips should be enough right? He walked towards Crowley and leaned his head inches from his. When Crowley lips came in contact with his own Stiles tried to not to gag, he tried to move away quickly only to have Crowley pinch his side.

“Ow!” Stiles screamed.

A big mistake, because now Crowley took advantage of the opening to shove his tongue in Stiles mouth. Stiles teeth clamped on Crowley’s tongue and the man cursed moving away. The black eyed demon laughed at the scene unfolding before him.

“Feisty, I like.” Crowley smirked.

“What now?” Stiles barked.

Crowley signaled to the other demon who walked languidly towards Stiles. Once he was standing in front of Stiles he opened his eyes and a cloud of black smoke flew out of his mouth aiming for Stiles face. The body the smoke had vacated dropped to the floor, lifeless. The smoke invaded Stiles’mouth and nostrils, making its way down his throat. Stiles thought he was going to be sick. Once the smoke was in Stiles coughed and inhaled deeply. He touched his chest and arms, making sure he hadn’t grown any horns or something. He was about to complain to Crowley when he felt something crawling up his throat. Oh my God. The dark smoke flew back inside the man lying on the floor and he opened his black eyes in confusion.

“What in the bloody hell just happen?!” Crowley yelled.

“I don’t know sir, it didn’t work. I went in, I was settled for a few seconds and then I was gone. It’s like something dragged me out.”

Both demons turned intrigued stares at Stiles. Crowley made his way towards Stiles and grabbed him by his chin. He moved the boy’s head from side to side looking into his eyes. He then sniffed him? Wrapping his hand on Stiles’neck he used the ring on his little finger to scratch Stiles’ skin, drawing up blood. Stiles brought his hand to his neck and looked at Crowley accusingly. But the man chose to ignore him, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the ring where Stiles’ blood had collected. A smile of true fascination spread over his face.

“What in the hell are you?” the black eyed demon spat at Stiles.

A maniac smile still plastered on his face, Crowley dragged the demon to Stiles and produced a dagger.

“Woah, buddy. No need for violence!” Stiles screeched.

Crowley cackled some more and sliced the demon’s wrist, rich crimson blood spilling on the grass. “Drink it.” Crowley ordered Stiles.

Wait, what? First he had to make out with a creepy, rapey demon, now he had to drink demon blood? This was certainly some Twilight Zone shit. Stiles kneeled in front of the demon and opened his mouth tentatively under the stream of blood. He hated to admit it, but the shit tasted kind of good. As the blood flowed down his throat Stiles felt a sense of exhilaration spreading through his body.

“Isn’t that enough?” the black eyed demon whined, looking kind of pale.

Crowley ignored him and urged Stiles to drink more patting his head. When he saw Stiles had drank enough he pushed the demon away and helped Stiles stand up.

“How do you feel, Darling?” Crowley asked, watching Stiles carefully.

“I feel… I feel freaking amazing. This was better than sex! Not that I’ve ever had sex to make the comparison but this is certainly the best I’ve ever felt.” Stiles rambled.

Crowley laughed and clapped him in the back.

“Let’s try this again.” He told the other demon.

Again, the smoke flew out of the demon’s mouth and into Stiles. Only this time it didn’t feel as bad as the first time and Stiles welcomed it. He opened his eyes and stared at Crowley.

“I don’t feel any different.” He said.

Crowley held the dagger up to Stiles face and nodded. Stiles wiped the blood off the dagger and gasped at his reflection. His eyes were black as night. He grinned and immediately backed away quickly, a little freaked out by the eerie effect of his dark eyes and his smile.

“Okay, that is beyond cool!” Stiles cried before starting to feel dizzy. There was a darkness lurking behind his eyelids. “What’s happening?” he gulped.

Before being swallowed by the darkness he saw Crowley’s amused grin as he fell to the ground. From far away he could hear Crowley’s voice booming, “This is going to be so much fun…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pack freaks out because Stiles is acting weird but Derek doesn't believe them... bad choice, Derek, a very bad choice.

As Lydia walked into Beacon Hills High School she had a bad feeling. You know, those you get when you feel short of breath all of the sudden, your heart beat rises and your stomach won’t stop turning? You just feel it somewhere deep in your gut, an uneasiness that just gets worst with each passing minute. She started getting them after Peter Hale bit her. She didn’t know if it was some kind of after effect from the bite, but whenever she got these feelings weird things happened. Most of them harmless, thankfully, but they were still strange. And judging from the way her heart beat started picking up all of the sudden, and the cold sweat running down the back of her neck she knew today would not be a good day. Trying to push her paranoid thoughts to the back of her mind Lydia gathered her books from her locker and went to meet Scott and Allison.

“Has anyone seen Danny? I need to talk to him about our English project.” she asked Allison.

“I haven’t seen him. He’s probably with Jackson.” Allison said.

“Ever since he found out about werewolves Danny’s relationship with Jackson has blossomed into an even fuller bromance. You would think he would be pissed by us lying to him for so long but it’s like he doesn’t even care. He wants to know everything now. Now you see them all ‘best friends forever’ all over the place, it’s stupid.” Scott mumbled into his open locker.

Lydia looked at Allison but the girl only shrugged.

“Are you jealous, Scott? Look at you! You look like a sulking puppy.” Lydia teased.

Allison made a “cut it out” hand gesture to Lydia. She had stopped being a bitch to everyone after her incident but she couldn’t help but let a bit of her old self resurface sometimes. After all, she needed something to distract her from all the drama going around. Scott slammed his locker shut and did some more moping.

“He was supposed to meet Stiles yesterday and he blew him off, again.” Allison offered as way of explanation.

“I’m sorry guys,” Scott muttered. “I just want to know what the hell is up with him. He told me he would come to my place after he went to pick up something at the vet clinic but he never showed. I texted him and called him but he didn’t answer. I even showed up at his place around midnight but his dad told me he got home around eleven thirty and that he wasn’t feeling well.”

“That does sound strange.” Allison murmured.

“I understand that Stiles has been going through a rough patch for the past couple of days but I’ve had it with him. We are a pack, therefore, we are family. I don’t care if I have to tackle Mr. Stilinski or break into Stiles’s house I will beat his skinny ass until he tells us what is going on!” Lydia finished out of breath earning “are-you-crazy” looks from other people in the hallway.

“You’re beating someone up? I want in.” Jackson chimed in as he joined their little group along with Danny.

With a roll of her eyes Lydia chose to ignore Jackson and talked to Danny, who was too busy ogling someone on the other end of the hallway.

“Danny! I asked if you finished your part of the project.”

“Oh, sorry. I did here.”

Instead of placing the folder in her hands he shoved it at her face.

“What is he looking at?” Scott asked trying to hold back a laugh.

They all turned to find the object of Danny’s attention and saw two guys with their backs to them talking to a girl. The tall frame, and short curly hair of one of them ignited a spark of recognition in Jackson.

“No way, that’s Isaac Lahey.” He exclaimed.

“Which one?” Danny asked, his voice tinged with interest.

“The tall one,” Jackson pointed, “the one not wearing a hoodie.”

“No uh, there’s no way Mr. Lahey could afford that jacket for his son. Look at the leather work, that jacket is made from burnished lambskin. That thing must be worth at least $1,000 dollars. ”

“What about the girl? She looks kind of familiar.” Scott added.

The girl had long blonde hair, and like Isaac, she was clad in black leather from head to toe.

Everyone turned at Lydia’s sharp intake of breath.

“Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” she whispered.

“Isn’t that Erica Reyes?” Danny murmured.

“Who?” Jackson asked out of the loop.

“Remember that girl that used to get the epilepsy attacks? Everyone called her names and humiliated her. That’s her. One time they even filmed her while she was having one and then someone posted it on YouTube. Some people at this school are seriously fucked up.” Danny explained.

“Well, she certainly doesn’t look like a loser anymore. Jesus, look at that rack!” Jackson exclaimed earning looks of disapproval from both Lydia and Allison.

“What about the other guy? Do we know who he is?” Jackson asked.

“He must be new. No one in Beacon Hills has enough fashion sense to wear something like that other than y-” Lydia stopped herself.

Jackson looked at her surprised before a shy smile crept over his face.

“Whoever he is he has a nice ass.” Danny added in an undertone which only caused Jackson to roll his eyes.

Isaac and Erica laughed at something the other guy said and Lydia noticed the stillness that took over Scott’s body. His gaze was focused on the third guy from Isaac’s group. The guy was wearing a black leather pea cot and the hood was drawn up; they couldn’t exactly tell who he was. Yet something in the way he kept on waving his arms energetically while talking to the other two felt too familiar to Lydia. Scott broke away from them abruptly and marched towards the laughing trio. Once he got there he placed his hand on the hooded guy’s shoulder and whirled him around.

“Stiles?” Scott asked in disbelief.

^

Stiles gave Scott an exasperated glance before turning back to continue his conversation with Erica. When Scott had used his werewolf hearing to eavesdrop into their conversation he immediately realized the hooded guy was Stiles. Sure, he was using a different tone of voice and expressed himself differently but there had still been that silly Stiles undertone. Scott realized Stiles was back to ignoring him so he pulled him towards him again.

“Dude! You were supposed to come over last night what happened?” Scott asked.

Stiles turned his head slowly towards Scott and smirked.

“I was sick.” Stiles said dryly.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something different about Stiles. First the new way in which he spoke, and now this? Scott really looked Stiles over this time. He was wearing new clothes, very expensive looking clothes, and he was carrying himself differently. His gaze lacked the warmth and compassion that was always so typical of Stiles; now it only exuded a coldness and steadiness that seemed alien to his goofy persona. Stiles seemed too relaxed; he wasn’t twitching around and from what Scott could smell there was no scent of Adderall on his bloodstream. So why did he seem so in control of himself?

“Stiles-” Scott started; putting his hand on Stiles shoulder once more only to have Stiles shove him into the wall.

“Paws. Off. The. Leather.” Stiles snarled inches from Scott’s face.

Scott could do nothing but gape at Stiles. He was new at the whole werewolf business but he wasn’t that much of a pup. How in the world did Stiles manage to move so fast? It was almost as if Scott was standing in front of a stranger instead of his best friend. He massaged the spot in his chest where Stiles had pushed him and tried ease the pain away.

Upon seeing the exchange Jackson and Danny rushed to Scott’s aid and dragged Stiles away from him. Seeing a threat towards their new friend, Isaac and Erica stepped on Stiles’ s right and left side and glared until Jackson and Danny backed away.

“Bilinski!” shouted Coach Finstock as he made way towards them through the sea of students that had gathered to watch the fight.

“You do realize that is your best friend who you just manhandled, right?” Jackson asked.

Finstock finally arrived to where they were standing and signaled Jackson, Danny, Isaac, and Erica to move away from Scott and Stiles.

“Bilinski, you’re not the kind to be shoving people into lockers, usually you’re the one being shoved into things. And to top it all off you’re hurting your best pal McCall. What the hell is going on here?”

Stiles turned a calculated stare to Finstock.

“It’s Stilinski not Bilinski. And yes, I am well aware that is my best friend forever whom I just attacked.” He answered mockingly.

Coach Finstock stood frozen for a second. Never in his years knowing Stiles had the kid ever answered him in such a manner. The coach looked confused from Scott’s stunned face to Stiles bored expression.

“I should give you both detention?” Coach Finstock finished, his statement sounding almost like a question.

“As the responsible and admirable authority figure we all know you are, you most definitely should award detentions to all of us,” Stiles said placing his arm around Coach Finstock’s shoulder.

At the mention of detentions for all of them Isaac turned to Stiles with a look that said, What the fuck man? Stiles shook his head and mouthed confidently I got this.

“However, I must clarify that this was nothing but a misunderstanding between friends, Coach Finstock. You know Scott and I would never start a fight in school, we’re like brothers. Besides, we wouldn’t want to impose on your afternoon by making you look after us during detention. I’m sure you have more important things to do.” he finished dispassionately.

The group of teens watched the coach nervously waiting for his decision, and praying he had honestly believed the load of crap Stiles had just fed him. The odds were apparently in their favor because Finstock gave Stiles a dopey grin before telling them to go back to class and walking away from them. Stiles smirked victoriously as he received Isaac and Erica’s praise for his accomplishment of saving them all from detention.

Stiles faced Scott and grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Scott asked him worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Stiles inhaled and threw his arms around Scott catching him off guard for the second time today. “Man, I am so sorry I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was talking to these two,” he said pointing to Isaac and Erica’s retreating backs, “and the next you’re here and I’m feeling frustrated all of the sudden and I pushed you. I’m sorry.” He finished smiling awkwardly as a slight blush spread over his face.

“It’s okay, man. Did you have your Adderall today? Maybe that was it.” Scott asked while eyeing Stiles carefully. Stiles smile faltered for the fraction of a second before he answered.

“Yes, I drank it. But maybe I drank the wrong dosage or something. Anyways, shouldn’t we go to class?”

Scott nodded and followed Stiles to first period but not before exchanging a knowing look with Lydia and Jackson. That might’ve been Stiles body walking in front of him, but that most definitely wasn’t Stiles’s soul.

^

“Let me get this straight. You’re saying that Stiles is not Stiles?” Derek asked Lydia who would not stop pacing around what was once the Hale living room.

Derek had spent the day being bombarded with texts from the pack telling him something was wrong with Stiles. His first instinct had been to drop what he was doing and race to the school and make sure Stiles was okay. However, he chose not to do that when Lydia called him and explained Stiles was not hurt, that he was just acting strange and she would explain everything once she got out of school. She showed up to his place earlier than expected saying she convinced her mom to call the school and let them know Lydia had to leave early for a doctor’s appointment. When he had asked how she managed to convince her mom of doing that she said blackmail was not out of fashion like many people liked to believe.

“Yes, no, I don’t know. Ugh! This is so frustrating. Technically, it is Stiles’s body but you should’ve seen the way he pounced on Scott. There’s no way our Stiles would’ve been able to attack a werewolf with such strength.”

Derek tried to ignore the pleasant tightening in his chest he felt at Lydia’s comment. Our Stiles, he liked the sound of that. Finally, they were starting to understand what it meant to be a pack.

“Did Scott and Jackson pick up any strange scent from him?”

“No, they said he smelled like himself. However, they did mention something smelled off about Isaac and Erica. Then again, it’s not like they had ever really paid attention to their original scents so we can’t be sure.” Lydia finished.

The only way he could at least have an idea of what’s happening is if he saw Stiles himself. If this person indeed wasn’t Stiles they had to act carefully, they didn’t know how this thing might act under a threat. Derek ran his hand down his face in frustration.

“Where are they now?” Derek asked.

“Allison texted me saying they’re on their way here right now. What if this has something to do with the werewolf that’s coming for him, have you thought about that possibility? How are we supposed to fight when we don’t know what we’re up against? What are we going to do if this isn’t really Stiles, Derek?” she finished, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Lydia was clearly freaking out; Derek had never seen her like this. She wasn’t the type to cry over anything. He didn’t know what to do to calm her down.

“Stop pacing, it’s annoying.” He said stopping her and telling her to sit down.

Derek’s ears perked up at the sound of the upcoming cars and Lydia got up from where she was sitting to receive the visitors. Let’s act normal, she told Derek but he was pretty sure she said that more to herself than him. Jackson walked into the living room followed by Allison, a sheepish looking Scott, and Jackson’s best friend whose last name Derek could never pronounce.

“You guys had one job.” Lydia groaned.

“Where the hell is Stiles?” Derek all but barked.

“In our defense he did leave the school with us, but then he started complaining about having to change his outfit.” Scott blurted out.

“Next thing we know he makes me pull over and Erica Reyes shows up out of the blue driving a red Mustang.” Allison finished.

“Don’t look at me like that, Derek. Technically speaking this is not my fault.” Scott offered defensively.

Derek felt like punching someone right at moment but somehow he didn’t think beating Scott up would make him feel any better. Okay, maybe a little better. A deep growl unfurled in his chest as he approached Scott slowly.

“Lydia!” Scott whined.

“Enough, people! Let’s focus, please.” Lydia yelled.

Derek stopped in his tracks and shot her a look raising his eyebrows. She gave him an apologetic look and continued talking.

“Do we at least know if he’s showing up today?”

“He said he would meet us here. Let’s hope he doesn’t show up with his new cronies, though.” Jackson told her, not missing the way in which she tried to evade looking at him.

“What new cronies?” Derek asked.

“That’s the other thing. Stiles is now hanging out with Isaac Lahey and Erica Reyes. The three of them haven’t shared a single word in years and yet there they were, acting all buddy-buddy all of the sudden.”

If Stiles’s behavior managed to turn Scott, who was always too absorbed in Allison’s sole existence to pay attention to anything else around him, into a blubbering jealous mess then things were worse than Derek had expected.

“You should’ve seen the way they protected him, Derek. They were in sync; following Stiles’s every movement and standing next to him. Like protecting him was their only purpose. I’m surprised Isaac didn’t bite me when we went to pry Stiles off of Scott.”

“Guys, he’s here.” Allison interrupted.

Like a bunch of clueless puppies, the pack started to scramble around Derek’s living room. Looking for somewhere to sit and trying to seem normal, they didn’t want to give away the fact that they knew something weird was going on. At the sound of a car door being slammed Derek took a deep breath and braced himself to meet the new Stiles.

“Hey! Can someone open the door? My hands are full. I know you are all in there!” Stiles yelled from the other side of the door.

That didn’t sound any different from the Stiles they knew. Derek turned to Scott who just shrugged after coming to the same conclusion. Derek gave an exasperated sigh and opened the door for Stiles, who was holding a pile of grocery bags.

“What’s all this?”

“Relax you grumpy. I figured you might need some groceries. There’s never any food here.” Stiles answered while making his way to the kitchen.

Once he placed all the bags on the kitchen counter he walked back to the living room and met the questioning stares from the pack. Stiles was back to wearing his signature plaid shirt having apparently discarded the new expensive clothes everyone had told Derek about.

“What? Do I have a booger or something?” asked Stiles bringing his hands to his face.

Derek gave a sigh of relief and glared at the rest of the pack before starting the meeting of the day.

^

“We are not crazy, okay? He was not like this earlier.” Lydia hissed as Derek pushed her out of the house.

“Okay, I get it. But he’s back to normal now so I guess there’s nothing to worry about, right?” he smiled condescendingly.

It was taking all of Derek’s will power not to kick her out of the house. There was only one way for Derek to know if this was Stiles or not. He was going to talk about their drunken kiss and depending on how the kid reacted he would be able to tell if he was lying or not and whether or not this was the real Stiles. After a bit more struggling was finally able to kick Lydia out of the house when returned back inside he found Stiles waiting for him with a glass of lemonade. Derek took it and mumbled thanks before telling Stiles to sit down on the stairs. Stiles heartbeat spiked once they were both settled next to each other, and Derek’s thigh grazed his.

“So.” Derek started not really sure on how to go from there.

A mirage of emotions crossed over Stiles face before he threw his hands in the air.

“Look before you try to kill me. That kiss wasn’t my fault, okay? I was completely drunk, and vulnerable, and you were wearing the tight black jeans with the little hole in the knee, and I don’t know what came over me. You can’t really hold me accountable for it, really. Because-”

Derek clamped his hand on Stiles knee and the boy screeched before going silent. He leaned towards Stiles who gulped nervously before tilting his head back. Accepting the invitation, Derek ran his nose up the length of Stiles’s neck and jawline before bringing his lips to Stiles’s.

“This is happening again, ain’t it?” the boy whispered, his heart beating frantically.

“Yes.” Derek grumbled before catching Stiles’s lip with his own.

They were at it for a while, a jumble of limbs and erratic moans. Stiles did most of the moaning, Derek mainly focused on growling and trying to not to rip Stiles’s clothes off. Which was kind of hard, no pun intended, after the boy cupped him boldly through his jeans.

“Stiles!” Derek choked into the boy’s mouth.

Stiles just laughed and climbed on Derek’s lap before pushing him roughly against the stairs. Derek leaned back and smiled at Stiles as he loomed above him; enjoying the feeling of the boy’s hands running down his chest and caressing him through his shirt. What a funny feeling? He thought when Stiles’s smirking face started to blur above him. Why couldn’t he stop laughing? He felt ticklish everywhere all of the sudden. No, come back! He moaned when he felt Stiles’s weight gone from his lap. He clumsily reached for the boy’s hand before having his own hands pinned on either side of his face. That was fast.

“As much fun as this has been I’ve got other things to do. Maybe some other time, cowboy.” Stiles whispered on his ear before grinding on his erection.

Oh, fuck! Derek moaned at the pressure of Stiles’s erection on his own. No, why am I sleepy? He whined, which earned him another smirk from Stiles.

“Sweet dreams, wolfie.” Stiles mumbled against his lips before his eyes flickered black and Derek gave into slumber.

^

Fuck, Stiles drugged me. The realization dawned on him the next morning when he woke lying on the stairs and aching everywhere. There was no other explanation. Otherwise why in the world would he have passed out like that when he was having so much… fun? He remembered bits and pieces from the night before but he definitely remembered how it felt making out with Stiles. The other things must have been hallucinations though, like Stiles’s eyes turning all black. There’s no way that had been real. Derek was thankful today was Saturday. That gave him the opportunity to confront Stiles. Once he was up he got dressed and left for Stiles’s house. That kid better have an explanation as to why the hell he thought drugging his alpha was a good idea.

Like every time he visited the Stilinski household, Derek thought using Stiles’s bedroom window was better than knocking on the door; which is why he stopped dead in his tracks after tumbling through Stiles’s window and found a half-naked blonde sitting on his bed.

“Stiles!” Derek roared.

“Relax, man.” Stiles drawled as he stepped into the room wearing nothing but a towel that hung ridiculously low around his waist. “I promise you, nothing happened.”

Derek’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath that towel. Stiles caught him looking and winked at him. He fucking winked at him. The normal Stiles would’ve been covering himself and scrambling to get some clothes on. He wouldn’t have been winking. Much less he wouldn’t have a bombshell lounging on his bed.

“Erica, baby, would you mind leaving? I already told you I don’t seem to be attracted to that package.”

The girl got up from the bed grudgingly and glared at Derek, and then at Stiles before stomping out of the room.

“Now where were we…?” Stiles murmured, walking slowly towards Derek.

The Alpha grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him on the bed.

“Uh, like it rough don’t you? I can play like that.” Stiles leered as he moved to unbuckle Derek’s pants

“You drugged me.” Derek said accusingly.

“Did I?” the boy taunted with a tilt of his head.

“Who was she?” Derek growled.

“Erica? She’s just a friend. There’s no need for you to get all grumpy-” Stiles scoffed.

Derek looked at the boy carefully.

“It’s true isn’t it? You’re not Stiles.”

“Wh-what?” Stiles stuttered.

“Who are you? What kind of magic is this? Because, yes this is Stiles body but you’re not Stiles. He would never have reacted the way you just did. Who are you?” Derek growled.

Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes full of panic and mouthing incoherently before a grin spread across his face.

“Took you long enough.” Stiles smirked as his eyes turned completely black.

“What the-” Derek murmured before Stiles, who wasn’t really Stiles, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and flung him across the room like a rag doll. Derek’s head hit the wall pretty hard and his vision turned blurry. He watched the boy get up from the bed and put on some pants.

“You know, I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” The boy said pulling a shirt over his head. “I was supposed to come here do my job and then leave. Why do y’all werewolves always have to be all nosy with all your pack crap? And why the hell would you have a human in your pack? You trying to get the kid killed?” not!Stiles was kneeling in front of him, his face inches from Derek’s.

“Fuck you.” Derek groaned.

“You really like this meat suit don’t you?” the boy smiled at Derek’s silence and shook his head, “Well that’s a stupid question considering the way you pounced on him last night.”

“What did you do to him?” Derek murmured.

The boy’s eyes turned gentle for a second before turning grim.

“He’s fine. This has nothing to do with you. I’ll be gone-” Derek took advantage of the distraction and slammed his forehead against the boy’s. Stiles body slid limply on the floor as Derek massaged his forehead.

What now?

^

“Oh my God, Derek! Did you kill him?” Scott accused.

“For the love of God, Scott. I did not kill him, I knocked him out.” Derek sighed for the third time.

“I don’t know dude, he does look kinda dead.” Jackson added.

Derek glowered at him before checking on Stiles’s ropes. He had to make sure they were tight but not tight enough they would hurt him. Soon after he knocked Stiles out he had called Scott to let him know about what happened. Thirty minutes later Scott had shown up at Stiles’s house with the rest of the pack in tow. Since Scott told him Sheriff Stilinski worked Saturday mornings Derek figured it would be safe for them to stay there. God knows what the neighbors would think if they saw him dragging an unconscious Stiles into his car. Derek had already recapped what happened earlier in Stiles room and they were now trying to figure out what the thing wearing Stiles’s body was.

“You said his eyes changed color? That it happened twice, last night and this morning?” Lydia asked a thoughtful expression clouding her features.

“Body snatchers?” Allison offered.

“Zombies!” Scott gasped.

“Werewolves? I say werewolves because they always seem to be the cause of our problems.” Jackson finished.

Derek looked to each of his pack mates faces and asked himself why in the world did he put up with their shit. Didn’t they understand that this was still Stiles? That it was Stiles clean scent that filled his nostrils when he smelled him? Derek exhaled a frustrated breath before a soft cough and a gentle hand on his shoulder startled him.

“I might know what’s wrong with him.” The new voice said.

It was Jackson’s friend, the one who’s last name he could never pronounce.

“Who are you again?” Derek asked curtly.

“Danny Mahaelani.” He answered. “I think I know what’s going on here.” The pack looked at Danny expectantly. “You guys, I think he’s possessed.”

Five pair of eyes looked at Danny like he was insane before the silence in the room was replaced by laughter.

“Possessed?”

“Really?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You said his eyes turned black, right?” Danny asked Derek who nodded. “Well, that’s what happens when someone is possessed in the Carver Edlund novels.” He finished quietly.

“Oh not this again! Stiles was always talking about those books. Apparently there are two gay brothers, and a gay angel. They’re supposed to hunt supernatural creatures and stuff.” Scott groaned from across the room.

Jackson raised his eyebrows and turned to Danny with an amused look.

“What? I read them for the plot.” Danny explained.

“Sure, you read them for that. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the homoerotic subtext. Are you a wincest or destiel fan?” a groggy voice teased.

They all turned and found that Stiles was now awake and completely unbound from the ropes. Scott and Jackson morphed into their Beta forms ready to attack when, with a flick from his wrist, Stiles had them tossed across the room and stuck to the wall unable to move.

“Is it true? Are you a demon?” Lydia asked him with a smile voice.

The demon threw a lofty smile her way.

“Bingo!” he exclaimed.

Danny moved from where he stood frozen and approached the demon from behind chanting something in latin.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion-” Danny started grasping his throat. Derek watched in fascination as the boy’s face turned a deep red with a movement of the demon’s other hand.

“Stop this. Who are you? Why are you possessing Stiles?” Derek demanded.

The demon turned to Derek with a frown.

“That’s none of your business.” He spat out.

“Why were you speaking Spanish?” Scott asked Danny who could only shake his head at the boy’s stupidity.

“Dude, aren’t you like Mexican?” Jackson choked.

Derek tuned out his pack’s pointless conversation and focused on what was happening in front of him. The demon dropped to his knees and clutched his head. At the same time Scott and Jackson fell to the floor and crawled over to Danny who was now breathing properly.

“Fine, I’ll do it damn it!” The demon screamed, lifting his gaze to Derek’s. “Lover boy here is pretty feisty. He sends a message; he says ‘I am fine, guys. Everything’s under control. Just stay out of it’.”

“Why should we believe anything you say?” Scott challenged.

“Because I’m more powerful than all of you put together? And because I may be your friend’s only chance to survival. I know about the werewolves coming for him. That’s why I’m here; he sought my people out and we came to a business transaction of sorts. Let’s just say I’ll be his bodyguard for when those bastards come to get him; once my job is done I’l be gone and you’ll have your precious Stiles back.”

“What about us? We can protect him just fine.” Jackson interjected.

“You’re more than welcome to join the fight. I’m sure your Alpha would love to fight alongside Stiles’s body, among other things…” the demon purred.

Derek growled and started to pounce on the demon only to have Danny and Scott hold him back.

“Derek, don’t. You may be pissed at this thing but remember, that’s still Stiles’s body. He can still get hurt. He can still die.” Danny murmured on Derek’s ear.

“I see someone’s been doing their homework,” the demon crowed happily at Danny, “good for you!”

“Yes, and I also know that Stiles could die while you’re still using his body. How do we know he’s not already dead?” Danny challenged the demon, not missing the way Derek flinched by his side at the possibility of Stiles being dead.

“He’s not dead; it’s all part of his contract. This is only a short term arrangement. I will do everything that’s in my power to keep him alive. For some reason my boss was really interested in Stiles. He made me swear to keep him alive at all costs.”

“I didn’t agree to any of this.” Derek shouted coming face to face with the demon. “You hear me Stiles?” he whispered looking into Stiles eyes, hoping the boy could hear him.

“I never agreed to this. I’m your Alpha, you were supposed to trust me. I don’t want this for you therefore I demand this thing leaves your body right now!” he roared.

“It’s not going to work, Derek.” The demon sneered.

“Get out of him!” Scott cried as he tackled the demon taking him by surprise. “Let him go! Why did you agree to this? Can’t you see he’s just a kid?” Scott whispered, a tear trailing down his cheek.

The demon took hold of Scott’s hands and shoved him away from him as he stood up.

“Sure, blame the demon why don’t you. You guys immediately assume I’m the one who won’t let him go but you got it all wrong. Truth is, he’s the one who won’t let go. He holds onto my darkness like it’s the only lifeline in his miserable existence. He wanted this. That’s why he sold his soul in the first place. He wants me here and there’s nothing you can do about it!” the demon yelled, making Stiles’s go red with rage.

“This is what the kid wants and you,” the demon hissed while poking Derek’s chest, “will do as I say because you want what’s best for him, and what’s best for him right now is that we all work together.”

Derek stood pinned under the demon’s gaze, playing its words over and over in his head. As much as it hurt to believe it the demon did have a point. A wave of guilt flooded Derek. If he had given Stiles the bite maybe he wouldn’t have made this deal and he would still be here. Stiles did say he was okay, so the might as well roll with this plan. The sooner this was over the sooner they would have Stiles back.

Derek felt the heavy, trusting gazes of his pack as they awaited his decision.

“We’ll do it, we’ll work with you.”

“But Derek-” came Lydia’s protest.

“I’m doing it for Stiles. If what you say it’s true I don’t want to interfere with his decision. The kid would have my head once he was back here.” Derek finished.

“Good.” the demon purred. “Because if what I’ve discovered is true we will need to combine forces. You think your Uncle Peter’s meltdown was bad? This is ten times worse. The werewolves are not coming only for Stiles. They are coming to collect; there’s a whole bunch of secrets surrounding this town that you and your little pack don’t know about. Hell is coming to Beacon Hills, literally.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter, A LOT. We finally meet Demon!Stiles! He was so much fun to write, I hope I did him justice. I feel like the story is moving along fast so I think it might not be as long as I expected it to be. Again, please feel free to review. I can take the criticism. Also, there's some artwork for this :}
> 
> http://mariathegirlwhofangirled.tumblr.com/tagged/devilartwork

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic contribution to the Teen Wolf fandom so be patient with me XD.  
> Comments are more than welcome! I would love to hear your feedback, good and bad. Big thanks to Sydney and Laura for being my betas you guys are awesome and I loaf you!!!


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